Bill The Pixel's Epic Quest Of Extreme Pongitude
by Bokaj Rellim
Summary: An epic tale about the epic adventure of an epic pixel named Bill after escaping his former life of being batted back and forth by two feuding paddle brothers. God save us all.
1. Epic Beginnings

**It's been awhile since I've written anything. I still haven't given up on the whole Pokemon thing, but I doubt I'll be updating that any time soon. Blah.**

**This all came about when my friend asked me for an idea to write a fanfic. Being the smart-ass I am, I said: "Do an epic multi-chapter Pong story."**

**He took it seriously.**

**So we ended up fighting to see who could write the best Pong story. May the best man win.**

**HUZZAH!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pong, but if I did it would have an awesome storyline like this.**

**Chapter 1 - Epic Beginnings**

Once there was a pixel. His name was Bill. Bill the mother fucking pixel. He was bill. He was a pixel. A white pixel. A fucking white pixel named Bill. I don't know what else to say about him other than the fact that he's a pixel.

Anyhoo.

Bill lived in harmony with nature. And by nature I mean, he was knocked back and forth by a couple of white stick-paddle-things. They were twin brothers. Their names were PaddleStick and StickPaddle respectively.

Bill's whole life revolved around being bonked back and forth between PaddleStick and StickPaddle. And occasionally flying behind them just to reappear back in the middle of the paddles anyway. Mainly because they were a pair of jerks. That and they were locked in a never-ending duel. A duel for what you ask? Who the fuck knows. Seriously.

Bill never knew life outside the "arena". All that was about to change.

It all started one rather average morning. The two paddle brothers were at it as always, knocking Bill back and forth disregarding his feelings. In fact, the paddles were already resorting to their usual taunts and name calling.

"You worthless stick. I'm going to crush you!" PaddleStick called out from the left.

"I'm not a stick you dumb-fuck! And I'm going to be the victor here!" replied StickPaddle from the right.

"Uh, guys? I hate to interrupt. But I don't suppose we could take a tiny break?" Bill was starting to get sick already. They were going at it way more viciously than usual.

"Shut up Bill." Yelled PaddleStick.

"Yeah, nobody cares about what YOU have to say." Yelled StickPaddle.

It was like that all the time. The paddles kept smacking away, and Bill had no choice but to ride it out. Well at least he was better off than his cousin. Last time he heard, his cousin was part of a collection of pixels making up some dumb plumber's fat ass.

That's when it happened. The two paddles were really getting angry at each other. Angrier than ever before. StickPaddle took everything out on the poor pixel, and hit Bill harder than ever before. Naturally, Bill went flying.

Right past PaddleStick.

StickPaddle's score went up by one. It was like what normally happened.

Except not. Bill didn't respawn. He kept flying. He flew outside the "arena" and still kept going. StickPaddle hit him so hard, he broke free of the boundaries of the paddle brothers' sick game.

Bill didn't know what to say. It was amazing. So many new sights zooming past him, his mind could barely keep up.

"MOTHER FUCKER!"

And then he hit a tree.


	2. Lost In The Woods

**This chapter was slightly boring. I imagine things will start to pick up soon. It's kind of funny how unrelated to Pong this is, but whatever.**

**Anyways, I imagine all of the chapters will be this short. It's just a silly fanfic about the pixel from Pong after all.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pong, but if I did it would have an awesome storyline like this.**

**Chapter 2 - Lost In The Woods  
**

Upon waking up after ramming into a tree at high speed, Bill took his first real look at his surroundings. It was quite a new experience for the pixel, seeing as the only two colors Bill had ever experienced was the black of the "arena", and the white of everything else (including himself). That and the occasional splotch of red when one of the paddles hit him hard enough to cause external bleeding. Being the ball was dangerous, unrewarding work.

There was tons of green. There was also some brown and patches of a variety of reds, blues, yellows, and so on.

And then there was green. And more green. And even more green.

And don't forget the green.

Because Bill was in a forest.

There were trees. So many trees. Endless amounts of trees. Granted they were all badly drawn 8-bit trees, but they were trees never the less.

"Where exactly am I?" Bill asked nobody in particular, not really expecting a response.

And of course he didn't get one.

Bill stood up and dusted himself off. He took one last look around, before deciding on a direction and heading off, unknowingly starting his own adventure, with nothing but the lint in his pockets and a mild concussion.

"Yeesh, my head hurts. You'd think I'd be used to slamming into hard objects by now."

After walking for a little while, Bill found an actual path to follow.

Bill stopped to give it some thought. That mixed with Bill's amazing intellect, Bill came to a solid, logical conclusion.

Bill stepped over the path and continued right past it back into the forest depths.

When I said amazing, I didn't mean amazingly smart. Being hit in the head your whole life tends to be rather unhealthy for your brain.

After hours of walking in one unknown direction, Bill suddenly realized that he had no idea to where he wanted to go. He spent his whole life in that dark place with nobody but the paddle brothers for company. On top of that, not only did he not know the way back, Bill was positive that he did NOT want to go back.

Now that he was finally free, so many options were open to him. He could become a police man. Or possibly a Firefighter. Even a Florist! All that was great. There was just the problem of being lost in the middle of nowhere.

'Yeah, that sounds good.' Bill thought to himself. 'I'll be a Florist!'

He paused for a moment.

"Eh…What exactly does a Florist do?"

"Whatever! I'm sure I'll figure it out."

And so Bill continued his trek into the unknown depths of the forest.

**MEANWHILE**

PaddleStick and StickPaddle were sitting around the "arena" looking pretty bored.

"Our ball isn't coming back is it?" Asked StickPaddle.

"Oh, shut up…" Said PaddleStick.

And so the two paddles continued sitting around doing nothing.


	3. Cave's Don't Work Like That

**Wait, what?**

**Another update? By me? I mean, I know it's no pook-manz or anything, but still. The thought of me updating more than once every year is insane. **

**Well yeah. You have this one person to thank: Shinypokemanic. (Because having more than one a in your name is sooooo over-rated!) This one man/woman/it/combination of both/whatever-I-don't-care has successfully managed to make me update something.**

**I'm just so thrilled at the fact that somebody actually bothered to care enough to not only look in the Pong section, look under Mature, AND click a certain link that directs to a certain story that I most certainly wrote in my bedroom while waiting for crappy Korean mmo's to download, that I had to comply with said person's request that I update soon.**

**Therefore I updated.**

**Hopefully this is relatively soon, because this is as fast as I get.**

**Anyway, you're a cool dude orwhateveryouare. You said to guess, so here I am guessing.**

**It's short, it's sweet, it's slightly all over the place because I tend to write while on sugar highs, and I'm going to go pass out in bed now. Either that or play with whatever game I installed today, because I don't even remember what it's called.**

**_DISCLAIMER_: Pong meets Zelda. That would be the funniest crossover game ever. Unfortunately I own neither.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER 3 - Caves Don't Work Like That**

When we last left Bob- I mean Brian- I mean Bill, or something. I don't remember, it's been a long time, gosh.

Well that went off topic fast. Let's fix that quick.

When we last left Bill, he was traveling through an unknown forest in the middle of Somewhere-That-Has-No-Relation-To-Pong Land. Thank goodness that's a temporary name, because I'd hate to type that out every time I needed to reference Bill's location.

ANYWAY

So we have Bill, pretty cool and all. He's a pixel dude, pretty cool and all. He's lost in a forest, pretty cool and all.

Where in the hoo-hah am I getting with this?

RIGHT

NO LEFT

Wait, forget I said anything. I call a redo.

So Bill just walked through the forest.

And he walked.

And he walked.

And he walked.

And then he took a small break.

And there was a whole lot of green.

And then there was still a whole lot of green.

So he walked some more.

And some more.

And some mo-

And then Bill walked into a relatively wide clearing in the forest. From this clearing was a dirt path that stretched between the trees that made up the entirety of the forest. Of course whether or not he actually follows the gosh durned path this time is entirely up to me. Of course by me, I mean me, and by me I mean still me, and this is going nowhere and lololol lololol runonsentanceohmygodnospaces banana!

There wasn't exactly a lot else that the random forest clearing had going for it. Y'know, except that peculiar cave entrance that happened to be built straight into the side of a particularly dense patch of trees, somehow. But nobody cares about caves.

Well nobody besides Bill who's first idea was to see if there was any super-mega-awesome loot inside of it.

"Uh. What the heck is a loot?"

Shut up and go in the damn cave already.

Bill peered into the cave. It was pitch black inside. In the center of the cave were two small torches illuminating just enough of the cave to make out a generic looking old guy, seemingly standing around doing absolutely nothing like old people tend to do since they're retired and bored out of their minds. And occasionally insane.

Bill didn't really want to approach Mr. I-Am-Standing-In-A-Cave-For-No-Reason-Old-Guy-That-Might-Be-Mentally-Unstable, not to mention the old man seemed to be preoccupied with a staring contest a wall made of rock, despite the cave entrance being smack dab in the middle of trees. Unfortunately for Bill, the old man decided to pick that moment to lose, and he looked straight at Bill. When this strange old man's eyes reached Bill, his face brightened and he beckoned Bill inside.

And of course since this makes everything all better, Bill heeded the old man disregarding every reason he had for not wanting to go in the cave. As he proceeded to move himself within the geezer's probable hearing radius, he heard the man mumbling to himself.

"…Gosh durn wall…never win…fucking staring contests…impossible…"

And then when Bill was within proper distance:

"Ah! There you are lad! It's been too long since I've had company. Too long indeed."

And then suddenly, with no warning he reached under his worn, tattered rob, and pulled out the most ridiculous looking lol-looks-like-a-fucking-candle sword anyone had ever seen. Excluding Bill, who's never seen a sword before, and therefore wouldn't know the difference between a candle and a sword if he was stabbed in the kidney with both of them.

"IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE! TAKE THIS."

Oh shit.


	4. Oh my god, a talking octopus!

**So here's chapter 4 and stuff.**

**In all honesty, this should have been done sooner. In fact, it would have been done sooner. I've been kind of short on free time lately though with college and everything else that happens in the horrible place known as Reality.**

**It sucks but what can you do, eh?**

**Anyway, here's chapter 4 of this ridiculous Pong fanfiction that has almost nothing to do with pong outside of the first chapter.  
Oh and yes, I did read that review. I treasure every single one I receive. I was just too busy to reply or even acknowledge it at the time.**

**_DISCLAIMER:_ I don't own Zelda or Pong. I also don't own that castle, but you'll just have to wait until I get around to updating again to understand why. If I did indeed own any of it, I would be exceedingly rich, and wouldn't have to worry about these damn college loans. Oh well. I HAVE A POTATO AND HIS NAME IS CLYDE.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4 - Oh my god, A talking sausage! Wait, I mean octopus!**

So as you may or may not have realized, depending on whether or not you actually have any love for games that don't involve guns and little kids with microphones, with my completely biased hate against people that insist their games are fun and unique, Bill has managed to find himself completely lost in Hyrule. How exactly this happened, I don't know. However, my theory is that he was hit so hard, he flew out of his own Atari cartridge and landed in an NES Legend of Zelda cartridge. Mainly because I'm messy and leave all my games unorganized and scattered about on the floor.

Anyway, as we so graciously left off, Bill had just received a candle attached to a wooden hilt from a strange old man who likes to compete in staring contests with inanimate objects without eyes. The old guy has given it to him due to the fact of possible dangers in traveling in this strange, and wondrously green land (at least until you find yourself lost in the mountains or something) because apparently it is perfectly safe to travel as long as you aren't alone, and also that a sword made of wax is eligible for becoming a traveling companion.

Welcome to Hyrule, baby.

So un-named old guy handed Bill the previously aforementioned sword of wax. Since Bill was from a world of constant horizontal motion, he had no idea what the object he was handed was, what it was for, or how to use it.

"Gee…uh. What exactly is this?" asked Bill completely confused at the foreign object now in his grasp.

"Why lad! It's a sword! Yeh've seen a sword before haven't ye?" Responded the old guy with a question of his own.

"A sword! Is this really a sword?" exclaimed the bewildered pixel.

"Of course it's a sword!"

"Wow! A real sword! I never thought swords were so strange looking…and soft. And what is this string sticking out of the top for?"

"Erm. Eh, heh, heh, forget the string! More importantly, do you know how to use it?"

And the answer to that question would have been no.

"Of course I do!" said Bill regardless. "You just…uh…do…something."

The old man sighed an aged sigh of oldness. "You swing it lad."

"Oh" said Bill, slightly embarrassed. "I knew that. Like this right?"

Bill then proceeded to flail around the sword like an idiot. Unfortunately due to his close proximity to the old fellow that granted him the sword in the first place, he ended up cutting the poor man's head clean off. The now headless body of the old man proceeded to bleed to death on the floor.

"Uh. Wow. My bad…"

Bill slowly backed away, and then ran out of the cave as fast as he could with his now blood drenched sword hoping nobody would ever find out. Although due to the limited graphical qualities of NES games, it didn't really change in appearance at all. Not to mention if some old person had to resort to living in the middle of nowhere in an isolated cave for a relatively long, yet undefined period of time, he probably didn't have that many people that actually cared at all about him in the first place.

Regardless, Bill continued to run away from the scene of the crime until he had to cease lest he run into the strange octopus-like creature that for some reason happened to be waltzing around on land like walking on land was something octopi do every day. Which they do. Trust me. When nobody is looking, they all party up on the beaches. There is no reason why you should deem my statements fictitious. I've never lied in my life.

Anyway, The octopus seemed to be sentient, and took a mild interest in Bill, who was now standing in front of it holding what seemed to the octopus to be a candle attached to a wooden hilt of some sort. This was really quite silly to the octopus. I mean, why go through all the trouble of sticking a candle on a hilt to carry it around when you could always just use a torch instead. At any rate, not introducing himself to this interesting pixel in front of him would be rude and quite ungentlemanly.

"Ello there." said the octorok. "My name is Gerald Wenthershire. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

"Oh…uh, hi." said Bill, rather confused and off-guard at the fact that there was a talking octopus addressing him, and on land no less. But then Bill realized that he had no idea what an octopus was or what it had to do with the ocean (or even what an ocean was for that matter) and went back to a calm, uninteresting state of being. "My name is Bill. It's uh…nice to meet you too I guess."

"Well met, Bill." replied the octorok. "Say, you haven't seen a silly looking lad running around in a green skit anywhere have you? I have orders from my boss to blast him on sight if I see him and whatnot. I mean, no hard feeling towards him or anything, but orders are orders and all that."

"A…skirt? Uh, nope. I haven't seen anyone. Especially no old people living in caves! I guess I could let him know you're looking for him if I do though…"

"Oh, that's rightly nice of you Bill."

"Yeah. Well, I uh, need to go now."

'Is that so? Well have a pleasant afternoon then."

"Erm, yeah. You too."

Bill, having now completely forgotten about the murder he committed approximately 10 minutes ago, resumed his journey forward at a more comfortable pace. He traveled through more forest, over mountains, and across beaches, deftly ignoring all the miscellaneous creatures that seemed to only be interested in this creepy cross-dressing kid that seemed to be running around somewhere doing something that Bill didn't really care about in the least. Bill had his goals. He wanted to become a florist, whatever that might be. And while continuing to walk forward with no idea of where he was headed probably wouldn't get him any further to accomplishing his goal, it sure was better than doing nothing.

Eventually Bill stopped trekking forward. Mainly because he was so preoccupied in his own thoughts he didn't see the big foreboding stone wall he just recently ran straight into. After picking himself up off the ground, he looked upwards to see that the wall extended high into the air and off to the sides, where it connected with other walls to form a building of some sort.

Bill found himself outside a castle.  
An unnatural darkness settled in.


	5. Of Vampires and Men

**Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. My brain. Not even I understand how or why it comes up with this shit.**

**Anyway, I like this chapter. So shut up and read.**

**And maybe review if you're so inclined. But if you aren't that's okay. Slopes are stupid anyway. **

**DISCLAIMER: I'm not wearing pants right now. Wait. That's not what I wanted to say.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 5 – Of Vampires and Men**

Bill stared at the looming castle wall he had just run face-first into. It was a pretty nice wall overall. Significant height, just enough thickness, rough enough to avoid looking boring, but smooth enough to be difficult to scale. It was certainly a wall to last the ebb and flow of time. It was a wall to be admired.

But bill is unfortunately not refined enough to appreciate a fine wall when he sees one, and started walking parallel to it in order to find a way around. He eventually reached the section of the estate where the wall ended, meeting with another similar wall headed in a direction of perpendicularity. And yes. That is a word. I didn't even know until I used it, and spell-check said it was A-OK. The things you learn while writing fan-fiction. Let. Me. Tell. You.

Not that I actually know whether or not I'm using it right, because I can't be bothered to actually look up an accurate definition.

Anyway, Bill started walking in his previous direction once more. At least until he found himself standing outside the front entrance (albeit in the wrong direction) of the rather large, dark, scary, castle that for some reason unknown to man generated it's own synthetic, all-consuming darkness.

Not that the entrance of the castle particularly grabbed Bill's attention. Because as already mentioned earlier, Bill is not refined enough to care.

_And I hate you for it, Bill. I hate you for it._ _I'm going to kill you in your sleep._

Just kidding.

Maybe.

What actually grabbed Bill's attention was in fact the extremely upset pale guy dressed in fancy clothes sitting on the ground by the entrance. Now because all unhappy pale people are generally completely safe and okay to talk to, Bill approached the man to see what was wrong.

And while Bill is a thoughtful and caring pixel, he still accidentally murdered a helpless old man. Oh yeah, and he has no taste for walls. Mother fucker.

"Hello random pale-skinned guy, randomly sulking outside of this huge random castle made of walls that I have no interest in! Why are you so sad?"

Captain Pale of Planet Whitey looked up, surprised to see anyone caring about his feelings, let alone communicating to him at all in ways that didn't involve whips, crosses, daggers, axes, holy water, and any other sub-weapons I forgot because I'm fucking dumb.

Unless I didn't actually miss any, in which I command you to bow down to me as your leader for all eternity because I'm too fucking amazing for words.

Actually, you know what? Do it anyway. I totally deserve it regardless.

Oh right. Captain Pale has dialogue. Where was I? Oh yes.

The pale guy looked up at Bill. "You really want to know?"

Bill shrugged his shoulders. Or at least he would have shrugged his shoulders. Pixels don't have shoulders. You should know that by now. I'm going to have to deduct five points from your score since you can't seem to comprehend the concept of a colored square. You brought this on yourself you know.

Score? Who the fuck cares about score anymore?

"Of course I do!" replied Bill.

The pale guy looked uncertain, but cleared his throat and began his tale anyway.

_Now this is the story all about how_

No.

_My life got flipped, turned upside down._

Oh god, no.

_And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there._

Stop.

_I'll tell you how Simon took my spot as the prince of Transylvania._

STOP!

_In a small west-side town, he was born and raised_

_Training to be a hunter is how he spent most of his days_

_Chillin' out, maxin', relaxing all cool_

_Whippin' some zombies outside of the school_

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

_When a couple of vamps that were up to no good_

_Started making trouble in his neighborhood_

_He got into one pretty big fight and his mom was proud_

_And said 'You're slaying that Dracula down in Transylvania'_

I'M THE NARARATOR! LISTEN TO MY COMMANDS!

_He grabbed a horse-cart and when it came near_

_The horse's name was 'Fresh' and there was no mirror!_

_If anything I could say that the lack of mirrors should be obvious_

_But he jumped in and said "Let's go! There's a vampire in Transylvania!"_

…

_He pulled up to the castle about seven or eight_

_And yelled to the cart-driver 'yo, holmes, smell ya later!'_

_He looked at my castle, he was finally there_

_To kick me off of my throne as the prince of Transylvania_

…Is it over?

"So basically, he beat you up, stole all your valuables, and kicked you out of your house?" asked Bill, summing up Dracula's horrible piece of media that was mostly my fault for assembling half-assedly in the first place. And no, assedly isn't a word. But I'm using it anyway. Fuck you.

It's not my fault he sung it though. I swear. Just because I'm the one that writes every piece of anything that comes out of anyone's mouth in this thing doesn't mean that I made him do it.

Wait, yes it does.

Fuck.

Whatever, forget about everything that happened above.

Everything.

Good.

Now continuing in 3…2…1… GOOOOOO!

"Pretty much." Said the bummed-out Dracula with a sigh.

"That Simon guy sounds like a real jerk!"

"He is."

"Let's beat him up and reclaim your home!"

"Ye-" Dracula's head perked up. "What? You mean it?"

"Of course! As a florist, I am bound by my duty to assist in the act of house-recovery during exact circumstances pertaining to bummed-out pale people in fancy clothing that may or may not be of vampire lineage!"

"Uh…right." Dracula found this particular pixel to be rather odd. And not quite completely together. Why the heck is he ranting about being a florist? Ah, but the pixel did offer to help him get his castle back, and sleeping outside in the dirt was bad for his perfect complexion. And the fact that he couldn't go very far away from the castle, since he was weak to sunlight. He snapped out of his thoughts. "Anyway, I accept your offer. If we succeed in this manner, I will make you my official undead florist!"

"Woo! I get to be a florist! Let's go!"

And so an unlikely team was formed. A lost, unrefined pixel with no taste in walls and probable brain injury, and a pale, fancy-pants man that might or might not have been a vampire but probably was. A team formed because they had something to gain by working together.

Dracula would get his home back.

Bill would live his dream of being a florist. Minus the living part. Undead aren't living. They're undead. So I guess he'd be undeading his dream of being a florist. But that doesn't sound as good. And no, undeading isn't a word. Stop asking.

They stormed the front entrance of the castle, determined to undermine the wicked Simon Belmont.

Shit was getting real.


End file.
